Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Tanzania and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delta 5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Bang On A Can,
Suicide,
the Normal,
Judy Mowatt,
Surgeon,
Sarah Menescal,
Matthew Bourne,
Alison Limerick,
Boredoms,
The Fire Engines,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gichy Dan,
Carl Craig,
Magma,
Bobby Byrd,
Amazonics,
ABBA,
Yazoo,
The Misunderstood,
Wire,
New York Dolls,
June of 44,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Bill Near,
Radiohead,
John Coltrane,
Gang Starr,
The Barracudas,
Archie Shepp,
the Sonics,
Glambeats Corp.,
La Düsseldorf,
World's Most,
Jawbox,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ponytail,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Funky Four + One,
Model 500,
Au Pairs,
Fat Boys,
Flipper,
The Tremeloes,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Martian,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Drexciya,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
New Age Steppers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Minutemen,
Zero Boys,
Hasil Adkins,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Birthday Party,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cheater Slicks,
The Doors,
Hardrive,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.